The Angel of Light
by White Crescent
Summary: FF6--Who is the angel of light? Why is he an angel of light? This is a random fic cooked up after being all too obsessed with the charjournals! R&R pleaze, it's my first FF6 fic to be posted here ^_^


The Angel of Light

__

They call him a maniac; a cold killer.

They cringe at the sound of his name.

They said he deserved death more than anyone,

But I do not think the same.

For he was my child.

He was my angel… the light of my life.

My Angel of Light 

------

Years before, before I died and he killed my child, before I even had him….. I was a normal girl. Not so normal, but normal.

I was an actress, a singer at the famous Opera House. My parents were proud of me. I was the oldest of the Alexis Sisters.

I was called Emeria Esmeralda Alexis. Like an emerald, they said I was….. Shining bright…. With a wonderful future ahead of me.

I fell in love with a wonderful young man by the name of Ian. He was an Imperial officer, someone with a great future ahead of him.

He was the heir to the Palazzo fortune.

He was the only child; Ian Palazzo, and he was the member of one of the richest families in Jidoor.

When I met him, he was a gentle young man, having all the qualities of a perfect suitor. He had money, power, intelligence, a heart, a mind……. And most of all, love for me.

But I guess he loved me too much. So much…………….. Let me return to my life.

His family succeeded in having my family's support. 

We were set, we were immediately made engaged.

And one fair summer day, with skies cool blue, flowers swaying with the slight wind, a gentle music coming from an organ, I walked down the cobblestone path in a flowing white gown embedded with hundreds of pearls, crystals, diamonds and an emerald that stood out, to meet my beloved. I was nineteen then.

It was a wonderful day.

A wonderful life followed it.

Before it came.

------

My husband, Ian rose up in the Empire to become a general. I remember how he used to come home everyday, in his dashing army uniform to sweep me up in his arms and give me his usual loving kiss.

Those were the good times.

Two years in our marriage, he started becoming odd. Until one day, he told me he needed to talk to me about something 'urgent'.

I was afraid then: afraid that he had gotten tired of me, that he had finally found someone else to love. I was sorely afraid!

But he said something worse. Something that triggered our lives' decent.

I had to carry out something for him, for the Empire.

He said, by agreeing to do so, he would become more powerful in the Empire, and we would become more powerful…. Respected.

And I, with love and trust so great for him, saw only him, smiling widely when I said yes.

I didn't think about it.

I was asked to carry a child for the greater good of the Empire. The child was to be trained and to be tested with—to attempt to create an esper, a magical being……

Magic, that was what the Empire wanted. And I was chosen to carry the Empire's hope.

Chosen to let torture come upon an unborn child. 

The did some horrible things with him—even unborn, they used to inject some strange liquid into him……. 

I've always wondered what it was and if it hurt. It never really hurt me. It was for my child only. My child.

But now I know what it was that they put inside my child. But I think it doesn't matter…… 

I thought I was strong. I thought I could easily kick off the motherly instincts…….. I thought I was hard enough, unique enough.

But I found out one thing through that. No woman can escape it.

When their child comes, they mellow, they lose, they……. Love them no matter what.

There really isn't such a thing as a mother hating a child.

A mother and child is forever one……………

And I was so stupid…….. So stupid……. I underestimated life.

He was a wonderful boy. Perfect. Blonde hair like mine, blue eyes like his father, skin creamy white—he was an angel.

And I.. I couldn't help but love him. And I couldn't give him up as I promised I would. I couldn't give him up even for my husband.

-----

My dear child….. His father named him as Kefka Palazzo; Such a majestic name that had been chosen by the Emperor himself.

But I despised that name. And in his years in this world, I chose to name him something else. It was by luck that my husband went away for business a lot…… leaving me with my son…………

And I never told him about his real reason for existence. I filled his mind with wonderful thoughts, molded him into a fine young man. A very fine young man indeed.

Completely opposite to the Kefka Palazzo the world knows today.

He wasn't like most boys that indulged in irritating young girls and maids and torturing animals. He was an adorable boy, the whole household loved him. I loved him.

And if only Ian and the Empire allowed him to play with other children normally, they would have loved him.

Ian didn't see his son. He only saw his key to obtaining a higher purpose in life.

He also cared for me, my son, and protected me and loved me more than anything. He saw me as a goddess… somehow, comparing me with heroines and heroes of the books he'd read.

When he was eight, his father, my husband, told me that it was time for him to leave. I pleaded for more time. But he seems to know what I was trying to do.

I was softening my child's heart so that the Empire will find him unsuitable.

Ian loved me, oh yes he did. But he didn't know me well enough. He didn't care for me, but he loved me and wanted me.

He told me how we could always have another child, if we could just give up my child.

But I said no.

I loved my child. 

He didn't care. He told me he'd persuade my son, whether he liked it or not, he was to be an Imperial Soldier. No…. A Magitek Knight.

He told my son about it. And I was glad when he refused. He said he wanted to be a historian, or an adventurer… or perhaps a merchant.

My husband disapproved. And from what I heard… I remember, he screamed at him, reminding him who he was. 

And he denounced him, saying that he was who I said he was.

My son, Baram Alexis. 

That is when a subtle war started. The war was between my husband and me.

--------

When he came, I hid Baram. When he was old enough to know what was happening.. partially, I told him that his father was becoming crazy……… crazy for power that he no longer cares for his family.

And he hid. I hid him. And my husband was slowly, ever so slowly sinking deeper into insanity. I believe.

At one point, I thought he would finally have him, eventually.

And hope, it suddenly came! Hope sent me help, in the form of a boy. Now I do not need to mention his name, yet.

He became Baram's friend one day. My son met him while he was hiding from Ian. And he, this boy, was someone to be so blessed about.

Since he met my son, and they became friends, he started coming and inviting my son to go in an adventure with him. 

It was strange, but he would come…. Ironically when my husband would come and arrive after my husband has left. Sometimes my son disappeared with him for a day, several, and at most, a week.

It was such a wonderful blessing—but it took its toll.

Ian often screamed at me. I had to endure some beatings, screams, criticism… anger……. everything. But I loved and cared for my son. And I didn't mind.

Baram was happy. And I was satisfied to knowing that.

I also don't regret doing so. It was wonderful, the feeling that your son is safe—though you suffer.

My son learned a lot of things from his friend. From the use of daggers… different kind of weapons………. And things……. He just learned a lot. It didn't really scare me.

In fact I was happy that my son was learning how to defend himself, from his father.

He also met more friends through that boy. And he became more and more……. normal. He would joke to me, make me laugh….. He wasn't supposed to do that… or to know that, I believe. He also often painted his friends, wrote about them…….

He used to tell me stories of their adventures… and misadventures. And I loved hearing those—so much. It was wonderful knowing that your son was happy and away from danger.

I was really happy… despite the pain.

------

My story nears to an end. The security lasted for about several years…. And it was….. Fate decided to throw a curveball.

My son strangely stayed at home… longer than usual…….. and he came. I remember the feeling of your heart beating fast…….. 

He was glad my son was home. And I tried to stop him from coming any closer to his room.

It was in the dead of the night. I screamed at him, clawed aimlessly at him, delay him. But he pushed me away. How many times….. I do not remember. I lost count.

The last one, I believe was in the stairs. 

I must have awakened people by that time. But I didn't care. And we ended up facing each other. He decided to finally face me there. We argued… argued…… about what, I forgot…. But in the end, he, powerful as he was, grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me hard.. down……. down…..

I still remember the rolling feeling……. The sharp pain at the back of my head.

I managed to stand up, I believe… I had fallen down the stairs and hit a side post…….. My head was bleeding……… Everything was a blur…. But I tried to stop him…….

And I swear at the corner of my eye… I saw my son….

His eyes were wide………. containing pain for his mother.

Then everything became darkness.

-----

I woke up in a cold room. My son on my bedside, his hair flowing down his shoulders……. His long sandy blonde hair……. 

Tears were flowing down his cheeks. And behind him was my husband.

They were all clad in black. 

Black.

That frightened me. 

Minutes more, I looked around. People were in the room, their eyes fixed on me.

I saw my sister there. She was saying something about how she'd miss me.

'Miss me?' I remember saying. 'Why miss me?'

….Was I dead?

I lifted my hand and placed it on my son's hand. He didn't notice.

I screamed, calling out their names…… Nobody heard.

I stood up and got off my bed.

When I looked back, I lay in the bed, hands clasped over my chest, flowers on my pillow… my hair spilled… my eyes closed… my lips sealed.

I was…. dead.

I placed a hand on my forehead. I no longer felt the heat. I was dead.

Tears fell. Mine. But it no longer felt the same. I was dead.

I was silent. I heard soft whispers… sobs…. cries….

The Emerald was dead.

I glared at my husband who was staring blank at my dead body.

Murderer. Liar. Selfish. Greedy. Uncaring. Cold. 

My son rose up and threw a punch on Ian's cheeks, cursing him. Calling him a murderer.

My relatives disagreed and gave him shakes…….

Ignorant….. Did they not see that the man, the Ian they knew is no longer there?

Perhaps they were bribed…….. I don't care.

Like them.. they cared only for money… riches…. The good life… Just like how I did before.

Death. I am dead.

------

My son, escaped that night.. and left with his friend. They traveled all over the world……. 

..

…..

…..

…….

I'll never know where and whatever they did……… but he got captured.

And tortured and made to do things he didn't want. They tortured my child… MY CHILD to submit to their wishes.

He refused.

Even when he found out that he was given life for their purpose only. 

He knew I loved him… and that was all that mattered.

I love you too, my angel. You thought me so many things and made me see things I've never looked at so closely before…..

But they brainwashed him and it destroyed him.

With no life as an anchor he became lunatic. Wouldn't you if you don't remember being loved by a parent, having friends…….. normal things…… a normal life… after being told many times that you are unbeatable, invincible and omniscient?

It's normal….

He, without something to hold onto, lost his way.

And he started killing. I cry when I see him suffering………

Not Kefka, my son, my angel; I see his pain in those burning blue eyes.

Yes, Kefka is my child. I am the mother of the killer… the one who has killed thousands of people.. destroyed towns, cities……….. But I am not ashamed, nor do I have any regrets.

I love you my son. Whatever you do, I am your mother. 

And… I had happiness… I am satisfied. I do not regret agreeing to have you, marrying your father…… 

Kefka Palazzo is my angel of light.

I am the mother….. his mother………. And I'll wait for the day he'll remember.

Take a stroll in the cemetery… go to my grave and read my tombstone…….

Kefka Palazzo…….. was very different……. So different……… it hurts….

__

My mother was my light,

She sheltered me with all her might,

She cared for me,

And made me see,

What I was not made to see.

And she set me free,

From my fate,

To enjoy life so great.

Though short it was,

And part we must,

My mother is my light,

Who thought me what was right,

And gave me a reason to live,

And to believe,

That I wasn't made,

For their sake,

But to be her angel of light,

As she was mine light. 

-------

Disclaimer: I do not own cute 'ol Keffy…….. So.. here you go. Squaresoft does… and own all the Final Fantasies they do!

Author's notes: It's 4:18 in the morning; and I figured that Keffy must be the cause of my writer's block so I wrote this in two hours. Corny: yes again. Baaad: I know, I know….. But bear with me. This was random and based on the charjournals (that's the project I'm working on with some other people ^_^ By the way, I'm Kefka, Shadow & Zidane!) _ So, good night. Please R&R ^_^;; Make me a happy girl! :3 

~*~*White Crescent

PS. Yeshiree, I am a Keffy fan…. No flames pleaze… any questions just ask me…. And I'll try to answer ^_^;; *looks at the Baram-- Kefka connection thing* Confusing huh?


End file.
